


Autumn, Red Leaves and Failed Flight

by Kasan_Soulblade



Series: Madness Season [2]
Category: Star Fox Command, Star Fox Series
Genre: Animalistic persepctive, Civilization vs society, Dark!Star Wolf, Gen, Star Wolf focus, Wolf O'Donnell focus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-06
Updated: 2014-05-05
Packaged: 2018-01-23 17:42:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1574141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kasan_Soulblade/pseuds/Kasan_Soulblade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He always thought the leaves, all bright and ember hued, looked best when spied between the bars.  Because that's where they put monsters like him, in places with bars.  Where he could spy colors of earthbound worlds but never give him a place with enough of a view to see the stars.  </p><p>So he stared at the leaves of those distant trees, and during that time before lean season took them all he imagined it was fire, and that the whole world burned.</p><p>For it's audacity to cage him it would all in due time. </p><p>This is the Madness Season's Autumn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Willing

The Willing

Intro: The Offer

 

 

Leaning forward, ears slicked back, eye squinted up in a malicious glare, teeth bared in a mute snarl, Wolf O Donnell stared a the hologram and the lupine it projected. His animosity was obvious even to the most foolish. Cold blue eyes - a shade akin to the glass that covered the eye that was not- stared down at him, unimpressed. Tail rock still, fur without a breath of ruffle he'd give the bitch credit for having guts and control but nothing else

"Take your job and shove it, lady. This ain't the nice-guy cadets here. We don't _do_ search and rescues, we don't save the freakin' day. You want those kinda merc's go to Corneria."

To the reaffirmation of the obvious -his hate and dislike for the she-wolf and her "job"- no a bristle took the fur, no raised hackles, nothing. Leaning back in his commander's chair, a rust colored high backed monstrosity that was as comfortable as it was obvious, he drummed his laws into the arms of the throne-like seating. For a long moment her answer was silence, and that silence was broke by the _tink-a-tink_ of his claw tips tapping on the metal. She remained motionless through his tirade, not offering so much as a blink, and it was an interesting kinda still that made his ears prick. It wasn't statue still or dead still, for she breathed if nothing else. When recognition hit he fought a smirk, held the scowl, and knew at last what was holding him back from cutting the communication. She was hunter still, and that was damned dangerous. The black tip of her pearly white snout quivered a bit now and then, she rolled her shoulders once, subconsciously prepping to pounce and kill perhaps? He wished he could see her hands, that would be the telling sign. Clench or shake, confidence or submission, what way did the bitch tumble? He'd of given a hell of a lot to know, it would have told a lot.

Running his red tongue over the sharp white curves and crevices of his fangs he waited, holding back his first impulse to just cut the link and be done with her. Intrigue didn't fill his wallet, and a full wallet was what he needed.

"I'm offering a million credits for accepting the job..."

To that he yawned, lifting a grey paw to cover his fangs. "Chimp change" was what the gesture said, to his indifference she sniffed. The most violent emotion out of her yet and that was budding irritation. After he'd baited and played with her, rant and raved, Wolf O Donnell most feared space rogue to make Lylat his territory managed to evoke... irritation. Cold girl, he noted, watching her with the blue span that was set over the eye that was not. It wasn't just a pretty piece of shiny plastic, but a fully functional cyber eye that had been an implant in his skull. Once set in place it made weakness into strength, possessing auto lock  technology, infra red settings -making sure the dark was never dark, that it did-, and a motion sensing alarm that woke him up when it sensed anything move while he was asleep. Over all it was a nice little implant, not quite state of the art cutting edge but close enough to make him happy. So he watched, on more levels than one, while he yawned and acted bored to tears. The stupid git never knew she was watched, or may be she did, because she didn't move a hair.

"Allow me to be more clear, Mr. O Donnell, before I bore you to sleep. A million on acceptance, whether you succeed or not you get that million."

"And if we find something?"

"Nine million if he's alive-"

"And if he's not?" Wolf cut in. Not one to be bothered by a bit of rudeness she waited and only when she was confident he had no other questions she gave the telling detail. Her one fact not only cemented the deal, but evened out the scales of cause and effect in his mind. Like the Lizard would say, the numbers built the equation and with that final golden tidbit all the numbers fell right in place.

"Twenty million." He jerked at that, unable to help himself at that. She almost smiled a his response, seeing it, damn her eyes. "I approached the Cornerian Mercenary Association, no takers. I was, in short, told to "shove it" as you just told me."

No growl to the last, just another Cornerian be damned civility, the shaking of the head, to show mild distaste.

Despite himself he smirked, showed a bit of fang, unlike a tired and true Cornie she didn't cringe back at the sight.

"I can't imagine why you were turned down." He drawled.

"Cornerian's are... too _civilized_ sometimes." She noted, hunter-still even now that the deal was being sealed in her favor.

Interesting that.

Tinted glass, an ice skin from Fortuna's coldest lake, those were the eyes that looked back a him. Waiting, she was waiting, for the bared throat perhaps? What else could there be? She was too damn cold for this to be a Cornerian set up and Fox McCloud was to damned valiant to try subterfuge. He tossed his thoughts from paw to paw the same way he'd toss a loaded blaster, idly but minding the trigger all the same.

"Do we have a deal, Mr. O Donnell?"

Decision made he lifted a paw and met the arctic span of her eyes, his ears now totally raised and the scowl sliding off his face.

"Two things."

She blinked at his audacity, only that, and he had to wonder if she weren't part Lizard. Still, with fur so starkly white as to be albino and eyes so blue that there was no way she could take claim to that genetic infirmity unless she wore damned good contacts he nixed that theory. He endured her private winter, and raised one claw tipped finger to point at the lights on his ceiling. Murky, but pure enough to catch the jag of a razor edge and set it to gleaming, the lighting did it's job and that's all that mattered.

"One, it's _Lord_ O' Donnell."

She inclined her head to agree. When he went silent she tilted her head to the side, mutely coaxing him to continue. It was the most motion he'd baited out of her yet, and it was damning. Her form fractured, texture becoming... pixalated. The smooth lines of her fur swelled until they looked blocky, the lines of her frame dimmed ever so, than with a shimmer everything was as it had been before. Still, despite the second's long lapse it told enough and he fought back the urge to swear.

So much for Leon tracking the bitch back to her hiddy-hole and just robbing the tramp without taking the damned job. Now he'd have to work, damn it. Sometimes life wasn't fair. Still, he dredged up a smile and let his tail whip behind him as it would. A hole cut above the place where he normally set his ass gave him the privacy to let his tail do what it pleased. His commander's chair was more sate of the art than his patch some days for it gave his tail the freedom of expression without anyone seeing a thing and it lacked any pinching or fur pulling that a number of other "Canine friendly" chairs made nowadays caused. Another plus.

"Two,-" A second claw joined the first, and he let her see his smile, fangs and all. "-when we start?"

 


	2. Chapter 2

The Willing

chapter 2 The Hunt

 

_"Due to... security concerns you'll have to excuse my lack of straightforwardness. I shan't be able to tell you over com-link what you'll need to know, details will be provided at a very... specific location."_

_Annoyed with the girl's coyness Wolf bared a bit of fang while he snarled the expected. "That being?"_

_"I'm sure someone at that base of yours can track signal." She sniffed, "so track this signal."_

_"And find you? Just beam me the coordinates, damn you!"_

_She smiled then, showed a bit of fang with that smirk._

_"What makes you think I'd lead you here?"_

_Smart girl_.

Then and now he came away with the same thought.

As the Wolfen's steel sides thrummed about him he reclined, mulling over the tail end of their conversation. He wasn't _quite_ asleep but at the border between waking and slumber, his mind mulling over his mission even as he drowsed. This was how he spent all flights after the asteroid belt, mulling and watching simultaneously. The scenery was the same, the worlds and the debris between the worlds floated by were familiar and he gazed at the fringes of his territory with a detached indifference. Between one dull observation and the other he yawned, the eye that could closing as he slipped past the boundary of cognizance without realizing it.

XXX

Rubbing at a stiff neck he grunted, still reclined, but not boneless as before. Thinking of bones... His ached, and his muscles too, as both mess of organs raised a nerve based protest he same old whine. They hated the confines of the Wolfen's seats. While being a star pilots had its perks -aerial combat had more glory than land based, and it's frantic speed and pacing would got his blood pounding like nothing else- the monotonous "traveling from here to there" part bit. It bit hard, with fangs of steel and right on the ass every single time.

Waking in the Wolfen also had its downsides, aside from aches and pains it was... surreal. The control panel when in auto pilot set out a sick grey-green color that stained the walls and him with a color akin to rot. Shaking his head to banish the images, to shake off the queasy feeling of seeing his arms mired in muck-green hues, Wolf sunk his claws into the strongest patch of illumination right above the touch screen control panel. Not hard enough to tap the glass and "wake" the ship up, but enough to turn the com-link between Wolfen's on. With a sullen humm the twin screens appeared, showing what they'd shown before, Leon to his left, Panther to his right.

Like before Panther was a-snooze, Leon was a-lose. How the hell you lost playing solitaire by yourself was one of life's little mysteries. Certainly Leon knew how to cheat well enough by now, and he could cheat to spare himself the frustration of losing, but the Lizard never did. As Wolf watched on a silent audience of a movie no one wanted to really watch Leon looked at the cards cradled in his claw tips and contemplated the four trails of digits and suits. A dry "hsss" slid past the Lizard's lipless mouth; clearly he didn't like what he was seeing. A snigger tipped the older piolet off to Wolf’s awake status, rolling one black slit eye up, Leon considered his leader with an expression that was devoid of any inflection.

"Trouble?"

He even sent the query in a monotone.

"No problems, just checking up." Wolf grunted, shifted, and wished the pain to a nearest black hole. "You?"

"Fine." The Lizard rasped, not bothering to keep his voice down to accommodate the slumbering Panther. With a click of fang against tongue the lizard stuffed the three cards he'd pulled and tried another draw. Like a magician he spread the cards with a flourish, reading them slowly, savoring their factors and odds, the variables of each digit when compared to the trails of cards he was so meticulously building. Card one and two almost dredged up a smile, the last summoned up a scowl and oath. "Damn red two!" Leon screeched at the card.

"Huh?" With a groan to herald his awakening Panther cracked open a golden eye, the furless scars of his face wrinkling like old leather as he passed from the world of the sleeping the waking. "Wha’ ‘s’t?"

"Hst, wonderful, the Cat awakenssss."

And to that Wolf took to the better part of valor. Cutting all communications between his ship and those of his teammates with the tap of his claw before the fight really got started. He was bored, not crazy, and listening to Panther and Leon wrangle the last few hours of this stupid pre-mission assignment would guarantee his insanity.

So he cut all lines and let the silence of space, the silver chill that was the light of the stars and the black between those pin pricks of illumination fill his thoughts for a while.

XXX

Red scythed through the black, blaring out the softer silvers and obscuring the black backdrop of space in a crimson rush. The hot, harsh, luminance soundlessly issued from the canons that paralleled his Wolfen's wings, licked through space, and upon impact punched through steel into engines with a crunch you felt rather than heard. All was quiet, unless you have your com link on green. Stick to the green channel and make a killing and that's when the noise really kicked in.

Screams, curses, then static. He'd heard it all before but it never got boring, not in the least, cause there were always variables, enough of them to make the "same old, same old" from getting... well _old_.

He rose, and save for one ship having the guts to dog him the rise went as smooth as silk. From above he looked down, Leon and Panther were holding their own. Churning the pot, they licked at the edges of the formation, killing any who dared get out of it. Classic "V" formation, he noted with scorn. Corneria's one original idea, they huddled to that pride and joy, never improvising a claws width from the norm. Cornerian's were rather stupid that way. Safely above the action, Wolf let the back jets of his of his ship kick in, causing the back to rise and the nose of his Wolfen to dip. Once perfectly aligned he pulled a quick spin, and at that prearranged signal Leon and Panther pulled back from harassing the edges and sped away. One to the left the other to the right.

Silently he waited, the lights of his ship muted, add that factor to the natural black of space and the black glossy point that coated the bulk of his ship... He was hard to spot on the visual sense and radar jammers on the belly of his ship handled the rest. Open lines cut two ways though, so he kept his snout shut and squirmed as his tail twitched in irritation. A soundless growl cut across the seams of his muzzle, white serrations gleaming wetly as his licked his lips with anticipation. He waited, and listened.

Exultant-

"Captain, they've pulled back! Star Wolf's on the retreat!"

Skeptical-

"Something's not right here, they _had_ us..."

Their banter played about his ears, he ignored it. The bleating of sheep in the pen wasn't his concern after all.

Silence fell then. An artificial quiet sounded out as a result of a barked order, when at long last the commander realized something wasn't right. The soldiers fell quiet, and that stillness punctured by the hum of his blasters charging, one pair of eyes lifted up and saw darkness shattered. The eternal gloom of space was broken and set to skittering as the lights of the Wolfen burned to awful, bloody, life.

A mechanical voice sheared though the silence, uttering one damning, damned phrase.

"Weapons system is 100% operational, fire at will."

Shit, he'd have to kill Leon for leaving the automated system status report running on his ship, he'd ordered the scaled freak to disable it months ago! Ah well, make do, will do.

"You think we were just gunna let you boy's out without paying for encroaching on my territory?" Wolf grinned, the lights of his Wolfen smearing the gesture in artificial, light born, blood.

He descended, lasers slicing through the dark, smashing glass cockpits and ripping wings to the socket. They became a blur, metal stacked on metal, as he blazed by. He dove at a diagonal, trailing right above one of the angles of the "v" and etching it in red and wreckage. The flagship at formation's heart he grazed, a taunting trail of lasers licked at the flagship's shields.

Above the screams of the dying came one call that made him really smile. If he closed his eyes he could see them, pulling perfect u turns. Twisting just so to shake off the loss of equilibrium at flips end...

"Shit, they're back on radar, they're closing in!"

"Who?"

"The other Wolfens, the rest of Star Wolf!"

"Evasive maneuvers, get out of here! Pairs, each of you lock on a different sanctuary and jet."

Not too specific, that command. Either the man giving it was a fool or well prepared. The remaining pilot's response told the tale and proved the commander to be well entrenched in the ranks of the former. They scattered, those ships, dropping every bit of training to indulge in instinct and flee. Then as the sole line that remained fractured into bits and pieces and each pilot pulled away, there came confusion. Who was to go where? With whom? The delay turned deadly as Leon and Panther slipped in, canons blazing. In seconds the cut and slash pincer, a Venom tired and true hit and run tactic, had reaped its bloody fruit. An absent roll he pulled to deflect the flagship's fire did nothing to destroy Wolf's view or admiration of the sheer amount of wreckage floating about the remaining fighter.

Twisting up and forward he glided around the marooned fighter and its moron occupant, one eye reflecting the spats of electricity in ice blue the other in violet and white. When he was parallel with the flagship and its sole occupant he smirked, communication open far and wide.

"You can stop sending out that SOS signal, soldier." Wolf spoke softly, gently, only a breath or rebuke in his husky voice as he stated the obvious. "No one's coming."

"We aren't anywhere near Sargasso, O' Donnell!"

"I know that."

"This attack was unprovoked, then..." Sucking a deep breath, the ape on the other end of the transmission took courage from his draw of air. Perhaps or the first time the ape was relishing the life that was his, the seconds that his talk were buying. Hoping to cash more in he continued. "I... was hired to patrol this area, nothing else."

Delivered, soft, a mere whisper Wolf's O' Donnell reply was truth, less grim than the last but utterly fitting regardless.

"The hell you were. Leon, Panther, open fire."

One ship obeyed, Leon's. Panther was still, quiet, then in his purring voice he dared a protest.

"There may be some opportunities here, information if nothing el-"

"I don't want to hear it Panther!" Slicing a claw through the air to shut the Cat up, Wolf repeated to obvious and in his irritation for having to do so lost his mock-gentle tone. "I give an order and you obey, that's the stripe of this outfit. Either shape up or ship out in a body bag, got it!"

"Sir."

Then as one, the three Wolfens opened fire, no shield made in Lylat could stand against a barrage like that. With the shield stripped away next came the metal, than the reward. Screams, pleas, squeals, it blended into a hearty melody that set the blood to pounding in Wolf's brain.

Lost in the lust of the kill he was content to not think, for a little while anyways.

XXX

_"Quadrants of the last transmission, Leon?"_

_"MacBeth's moon colony or thereabouts."_

_Leaning back in his chair, tail rock-still -not hunter still, he was tired all of a sudden, too worn to dredge up the energy that constant state of tension required- Wolf grunted._

_"You're too much of a perfectionist to use the word "thereabouts" lightly, my friend."_

_"It's still exuding signal, they're still outputting, not enough for me to track here.. meteors you understand, interference... but outside Metro? I'll be able to narrow down the field once we're in the sky."_

_To that he closed the eye that he cold and cursed the eye that could not._

_"Rather exotic for a set up." Leon hissed, the tip top of his tail curled, an organic underscore for his curiosity._

_"Oh, the jobs legit." Wolf grunted, a grimace finding a way on his furry face. "But she's a damned paranoid, so we'll need to keep our guard up while taking the gig."_

_A blink, then the tongue darted out to swipe at the eye that had flickered open and shut. "Gig?"_

_Lazily lifting a paw to cover the cyber eye Wolf sighed. "Just get Rookie Cat, will ya? We got a hell of a day ahead of us."_

XXX

But only for a little...

"MacBeth ain't getting any closer boys." Wolf barked over the com system. "Let's go!"

They fell in line, two as one. Their motives were wildly different, one came in loyal the other fear. Still, you made do with what you got and left the rest to rot. They blazed on, the roar of their Wolfen's filling their heads with a vibe harsher than any rock song, despite himself his claws twitched as the savage joy of kill and flight took hold and he held on to his control real tight. It was control that held back the howl that thrummed in his throat and kept him from howling like an idiot then. But the kill always left him electric and aching all at once.

Behind them they left ruin, before them a goal.

The hunt was on.


	3. Chapter 3

The Willing

Chapter 3

Wheels Go Round….

"Home sweet home, ah the nostalgia."

With a chuckle that was mostly purr Panther leaned forward. The feline’s black nose almost touched the glass of his ship and left a smudge on the cockpit. He looked about with obvious interest, golden eyes flicking here and there. Tracing the continents and fissures that made McBeth the land locked mountain strewn monstrosity it was…. There was something like glee in those fool gold eyes. Panther let loose another purr, _clickety click_ went the claws against the control panel as the three hundred and some odd pound cat tap danced his claws against the steel.

And never mind that Panther was pure muscle and murder. Never mind he could in turn be calculating and ruthless, that the cat had more kills to his name than any legit vet of the Lylat wars. Hell, forget that the feline was nearly thirty!

_A yellow bus in his head he saw a little bus stuffed till bursting with kits and cubs, pups and kittens. And all the little kiddies, eyes wide, snouts gaping, had rolled right by when-_

Smashing the heel of his paw against the span _right_ between his eyes -minding his claws so he wouldn't lose his other eye- Wolf told that memory to stay suppressed like a good bit of trauma. Another self-inflicted smack pushed it back and brought a headache to take its place. When he lifted his paw and looked at his monitor all was the same as before. No changes on his Wolfen, save that the fuel was getting low. Not enough to be worrisome just yet but enough to note. From the com's projector system he saw Panther was much the same as before. Rapt and eager, guard down, looking at home like those brats had marveled at the wreckage of his beloved Wolfen-

Damn it! This time he smashed his head against the control panel.

To that Panther blinked, a slow sluggish drop than raise of the eyebrows, like a cat coming out of a cat-nip dream.

"Problems?" Carroso queried delicately.

Cradling his skull in his paws, Wolf drummed up enough civility to grunt. Not wanting to dare more than that the Lupine star pilot flicked back his ears and radiated that calm but violate aura of "ask me anymore and I'll shoot you". To that, Panther revisited reality, wised up, and went back to acting his impassive, unflappable self.

"Not a freakin' word." Wolf snarled to his remaining, -and all too quiet- wing mate.

To that Leon followed orders, though the lizards head was tilted just so and the grey-green eye lids were rolled up so the almost covered the whole of the chameleon's eyes. Running his teeth over his blunted fangs, the lizard amused himself by not saying a word, and playing wordless ditties in his mouth.

Wolf's keen hearing picked up each and every note, and with effort he checked a snarl of frustration. After all, technically, Leon wasn't saying a word, so he couldn't get away with yelling. Roar at Leon when he was following orders was the same as asking for major surgery with no antiseptic, and to have the lot done with dull knives to boot.

Not wanting to experience _that_ again the Lupine gnashed his fangs and held his tongue.

Undisturbed, grey green backward eyelids crinkling _up_ , the Lizard merrily tapped out "The wheels on the bus go round and round" while Panther looked at McBeth with a face as expressive as stone and eyes that shined.

"Leon."

The tongue stills its taunting ra-ta-ta-tap, and those non-mammalian lids slid down.

"What?" Leon hissed.

"The signal, it still coming from McBeth?"

They'd already scooped out McBeths larger moon, thinking that's where it had been first. A quick flyby with scanners going full tilt and the resulting flight from the ground based auto shooters meant to take them down had proven that spot a fake. It had also tipped Star Wolf to the intents of their prospective "employers", well rather it had tipped Wolf off at least. Panther still had yapped about getting his pay, though the tight tone to the feline's voice might have meant that he was hoping to get that "pay" from the doxies hide.

Always hope for the future, and all that crap.

"Sst…" Triangular head dipped down and both eyes locked on the equipment. "Signal's strong and clear and bleeding out like a severed artery." Leon clicked his teeth together, digesting that last thought, maybe even savoring it. Who knew with cold bloods? "We could, even open communications if we like."

Refusing to answer that choice bit of stupidity Wolf leaned back as far as the seat belts would allow.

"Funny that, signal still beaming." The star pilot grunted, instead. "You think they'd have severed them after they realized we were coming."

"Ssst, a set up?" Leon hissed.

"Bet your scaly ass on it." Wolf snarled. "And when I get the moxie who set us up I'll slit her down the middle."

Considering _something_ , Leon tilted his head to the side, eyelids sliding up, than down, than up again.

"With a dull knife." The reptile suggested brightly.

"You better believe it."

With a low growl Panther cut in. "Incoming transmission!"

"Lock on the coordinates." Wolf barked to Leon, then the eye that could narrow did as Wolf considered his next order careful and sure. "Panther…."

"Yes?"

"Open up the line, this might be interesting."

"But sir, if we…"

"I gave a direct order Carroso. Don't think for a _second_ that the fact you're piloting one of my ships gives you protection against being shot down for insubordination."

With a low grunt Panther toed the line. A familiar square box popped into being before O'Donnel's snout. The colors were washed out; the outlines had defined mass into shapes were so thin he could look through it like a fogging window. All necessities considering that sometimes you had to shoot and talk all at once.

Recalling that face, that snow-white fur and that damned black pert nose Wolf snarled, losing words in the hot serge of hate that took him and shook him hard.

"What the hell _you_ want?" Wolf spat.

"No time." No longer cool or composed, her eyes were wide and glinting, like sun on ice. She panted softly, and his eyes picked up smears of red on her pretty white clothes. "This is a set up and this transmissions being traced. You've got mere minutes before the mercenaries hired to bring you down get to where you're at."

Slow, sure, he took a deep breath, shelved his snarls.

"Why you helping us doxie?"

"I'm not helping you, I'm helping myself."

Fair enough, more than fair really.

"Tell me what you can girl, we'll talk pay later."

To that she grinned, no shame in showing fangs and all.

"Fair enough. More than fair."

"Spill it!" Wolf barked.

Hardly one to be offended by a show of boorishness she complied.


End file.
